A New & Improved Version of Yourself.

QUINOA CONFETTI SALAD

I'm pretty excited to incorporate a dairy-free diet plan into my current regime. At the suggestion of my dietician, I completed a 30-day dairy detox, and felt amazing afterwards. But I started missing dairy, like cheese and lattes, so after the 30-day detox, I incorporated it back into my diet. But shortly thereafter, I started to notice that I was feeling sluggish, more mucus-y, and my seasonal allergies got worse. I'm not intolerant of dairy and I know I'm not allergic to it (I was tested twice this year already), but I just feel better without it.

The night before last, I attended a gluten-free/dairy free cooking class. The recipes were not only fantastic, but easy to prepare and healthy! Above is a picture of one of the dishes I made today that I learned in my cooking class. If you are interested in more gluten-free/dairy free recipes, I use www.angelaskitchen.com. (She is who taught the cooking class).

As I've gotten older (and probably due to the t1 diabetes, grave's disease and celiac disease diagnoses in the past year), I've really become interested in healthy eating. Having an auto-immune problem, I choose to stay away from non-organic fruits and vegetables and have almost exclusively switched to grass fed or organic meats and eggs. I buy non-GMO products, I steer clear of high fructose corn syrup. I also started juicing last month (mainly vegetables, as fruits spike my bg).

I haven't drank caffeine in probably 15 years, either. I'm glad I don't rely daily on caffeine like so many of my friends!

Now if only I could permanently eliminate the cravings for sugar, in particular my decaf caramel lattes... The cravings make me feel like a drug addict.
I'm working on it!

There is always room for a new & improved version of yourself. I'm a work in progress!

What are your health goals?

Letter to Dr. B.- Diabetes Blog Week #2

Dear Dr. B (endocrinologist),

You were the lucky doctor rounding that weekend at the hospital in 2010 when I was admitted for a new suspected type 1 diabetes diagnosis. Oh yes…lucky you. I understand that I was in denial, that I argued with you and told you that you were wrong, (I might have even called you stupid) followed by complete ugly-cry sobs. You even put in my medical records that “patient does not want to talk to me right now,” “patient may need additional time to come to terms with her new Type 1 Diabetes diagnosis.” At one point, you wrote in my medical records that I was begging you to give me more time—a week at least—to go home and let me think about things before I had to start taking care of my disease (you said no, you big jerk).


When I refused to give myself injections, you told me I would be dead in a couple weeks. I stubbornly said “So be it.” You said FINE, I’LL give you injections- every day- here at the clinic until you can give them to yourself.

You personally even called me at my home before my appointments to make sure I’d actually show up and reminded me of the importance of getting the insulin injections. Some of the appointments I showed up for, others… I didn’t. You even left me voicemails when I saw you calling and refused to pick up the phone, saying “Nicooooooollleee. You had an appoinnnnnntment todayyyyyyy. You need to take this more seriously and come in.” I was just too terrified of needles.


You told me I was the worst patient you had ever had in your entire history of being a doctor. And I told you I’d make you a better doctor because of it. (and I really did, you have to admit). You even took a picture of me on your iPhone so, as you put it, “you could show your wife and family what your worst patient looks like.”
In the end, you appealed to my insurance company to cover an OmniPod insulin pump, pleading with them that I would die without it – literally- due to my inability to do the shots myself. Miraculously, they covered it.


I just want to thank you, Dr. B, for being more patient with me than I could ever ask for. 2010 was the first year of diabetes and I sure didn’t make it easy for you. I lived in denial most of the year. I felt so bad that by Christmas time, I bought you a bottle of wine and a box of truffles as a Christmas gift/thank you/survival kit for putting up with me.


And when you sent me a Christmas card in return, you thanked me and wondered how I knew JUST what you needed. It reeked of sarcasm (and possibly wine stains?)


So much has changed since then. It no longer takes me 6 hours to poke my finger and change my pods. Look at me now! Now I am mentoring some of your other hellion patients who are –gulp-just like I was. Who saw that coming…??

Anyway, thanks Dr. B.

With Warm Regards, your "FAVORITE patient,"
Nicole

D-Art

Here's my 1st entry for Diabetes Blog Week. Sorry, I'm not much of an artist!

Broccoli- Looks innocent, doesn't it?

For Easter, I got together with a few friends, and we had reservations to a local restaurant here in the Twin Cities. Being a dutiful Celiac, I called ahead and spoke with the manager, who ensured me they have practices in place in their kitchen to prevent cross-contamination for those who have food allergies (or for peeps like me, who have Celiac Disease). They also provide a full, gluten-free menu.

When we arrived, I advised our server about my gluten allergy (NOTE: although Celiac Disease is not an allergy; for all intensive purposes that is how we Celiacs explain it to the wait staff at restaurants, as it's more understandable than trying to explain that we have an autoimmune disease, and that ingesting even trace amounts of gluten- wheat, rye, barley or oats- will cause immediate damage to both our immune systems and our small intestinesand cause inflammation throughout our organs). Our server brought out a gluten free menu for me, and my friends are awesome and supportive and also ordered off the gluten free menu, just to help prevent confusion or cross contamination at our table. Being diabetic, I tried to order something lower carb, so I steered clear of the gluten free pasta offerings. I decided on a ribeye with steamed broccoli and a side salad sans croutons and the house gluten free italian dressing.

Sounds safe enough, right?

Fast forward a few hours, when the stomach ache I had experienced immediately after dinner turned into vomiting. Vomiting throughout the night, and into the morning, along with severe stomach bloating and cramping. Yep, I had been glutened.

Being glutened spins my entire body out of control; my blood sugar went uncontrollably high as my body was trying to rid itself of the gluten. Unfortunately, gluten is absorbed into my tissues and the damage can take years to be reversed.

Was it the sunflower seeds? I had wondered if they were purchased in bulk by the restaurant (bulk items are a no-no for Celiacs, as many bulk items have a gluten anti-caking agent added to them). Was it the seasoning on my steak? Had someone with glutened hands handled my plates? I just wasn't sure.

I called the restaurant the following day and advised the manager of the situation (not because I wanted a gift card, because trust me, I won't be eating out again anytime soon. I see why Celiacs tend to avoid eating out). The manager did some research and called me back. We think we found the offender, and it was NOT what I expected. Turns out, the kitchen had steamed my broccoli using water that had previously been used to boil regular (gluten) pasta. Gah!

The one food that I thought for sure was the SAFE food, steamed broccoli, turned out to be the culprit.

The manager was extremely apologetic and advised he was sending me a gift card for my next meal. It was pretty presumptuous of him to think I'd come back. Once that fear is in your mind, it's hard to get it out. The gift card will be re-gifted to someone else.

When it comes to food allergies, it just takes one person in a large restaurant staff to make a mistake. As a diner, I do my best to talk to the manager ahead of time when the reservations are made, and call again the morning of the reservations, and to eat at off-peak hours so the kitchen and wait staff don't feel rushed and make a mistake with handling my food. But no matter how careful you are, it can still happen. And because gluten has no taste, there's no way for me to know until AFTER I've eaten it and the internal damage is already done.

I almost can't believe it, but it's true - I hate having Celiac Disease more than I hate having T1 diabetes.

"My Entourage" or "What the F* is Beeping???" You pick the title.

After what happened this weekend, I wasn't sure which heading I should be naming this blog. At the beginning of the weekend, I fondly thought of my arsenal of machines as my own little entourage. We went shopping together, went for a long walk outside, and ate Reese's peanut butter eggs. My entourage had my BACK! My bg never tanked nor soared. I never heard a peep from any of them. All Saturday, life was gooood. They were so quiet that I *almost* forgot I had them at all. Sigh...

That was, until my church's Easter service. You see, my church offers multiple services but I attend the service time that is recorded and then uploaded to my church's website for others to view. At the beginning of the service, we are asked to not crinkle papery things and to turn our cell phones to vibrate, so as not to disrupt the sound quality of the video. Being a creature of habit, I always turn off my iPhone and then take my regular seat in the 2nd row at church; which is a cool 8 feet or so from the stage where the pastor stands.

During the Easter sermon, when my pastor was about to dramatically announce that "Jesus Has Risen!" something in my f'ing purse starts beeeeeeeeeping. This loud, muffled beep. Panic!!!!! OMG!!!!! How could I forget to turn my phone off before church????? I whip it out- oh wait- it IS turned off. Sh*!!!! What the F* is beeping??? I was sure everyone sitting in the vicinity of me was wondering the same thing. Even the pastor made eye contact with me, as I was whipping things out of my purse at 250 mph trying to solve the crisis. Is it the pod I'm wearing? Nope. Is it my pump's PDM? Nope. It can't be my Freestyle glucose meter's alarms.... Nope, not them, either. Ah-ha! It's Sam the CGM. Sam's warning me that I'm 60/LOW. I knew I wasn't low because I had checked my bg only 15 minutes prior and was slightly elevated. I apologized to those around me, most of whom silently forgave me when they realized it wasn't my cell phone. But fear set in. If Sam is beeping now that he thinks I'm 60, he's going to beep again when he thinks I've hit 55. Craaapppppp. I'm forced to drink a juice box, knowing full well it's going to unnecessarily jack up my bg, in order to avoid another show-stopping moment from Sam. Sweet, now everyone can hear me slurping my Juicy Juice juice box (cuz you can't avoid the slurrrp noise with their cheap straw).

Oh those awesome moments. FAIL!!!

Has anyone else had perfectly timed moments? Or am I the only lucky one?

Extreme Couponing for Diabetics and Celiacs.

I've found myself interested in this new show called Extreme Couponing. Has anyone else seen it? I really don't think I could ever successfully do what they do, partially because I care too much what others think of me (read: the poor people behind me in line as well as the cashier) and also because I do not have the time nor the coupon saavy that it takes. But thank goodness, I'll never have to worry about that anyway, because I'm 1). diabetic, and 2). celiac.

In general, food coupons are usually for some form of processed food, like cereals, baking mixes, chips or granola bars, none of which I can eat because they are either too high in carbs or, more likely, have gluten in them. Once in a while I'll get excited when I see a coupon for a yogurt (if it's a gluten free brand), or maybe for a frozen vegetable (without any sauces or seasonings on it, all of which contain gluten). But that's about the extent that I can use coupons. Following 2 medical diets sort of squashed those dreams.

Eating healthy isn't as expensive as many have said it to be. My cart is usually filled with fresh fruit, fresh or frozen vegetables, organic meat, tofu, dried beans/lentils, yogurt, eggs, fresh herbs, cheese, brown rice and ingredients to make my infamous low-carb (KILLER) chili. My grocery bill is extremely low compared to most of my friends', even though I have to to follow dietary restrictions. Your grocery bill is substantially reduced when you take the desserts, chocolate covered granola bars, cereals, potato chips and canned soups out of your cart.

I hope that someday there will be coupons for apples, bananas, dried beans and organic chicken. Maybe even some gluten free brands (which are so #$#$&*&#^$*&^! expensive that I usually avoid them altogether). But if you are diabetic and/or celiac, save your money by just sticking with whole foods, avoiding processed foods and put those extreme couponers to shame with your savings! ;) Here's too good eating!

Rage bolusing my way back to normal.

Today, I craved something sweet soooooo bad.

My hidden supply of sweets at my house had run dry, so I decided to drive over to the gluten-free bakery and buy a square of cake. I don't bake batches of sweets at home because, well, I'll eat all of it. It's safer for me to buy ONE square of cake at the bakery. Normally my go-to sweet is peanut M&Ms. I carefully measure out a 1/2 of serving, bolus ahead of time, and see just a small bump in my bg.

I even mastered eating a pancake on Sunday. I have been experimenting for a while, and finally NAILED it. One ginormous pancake with a (measured) side of pure maple syrup, and bg 2 hours post of under 120 = WINNER. Yesssssss!

That was not the case today after my piece of cake. I bolused ahead of time, I actually bolused so much that I was afraid I'd bottom out. Au contraire. I think you can determine from the picture approximately when I ate the cake. Despite the pre-meal bolus, my bg soared to close to 250. I raged bolused for a couple hours to get it back down to the normal range. It almost felt like a panic attack.

When I saw the bg spike, I took it personal. It was a reminder that you can't master diabetes. I felt as though I was being 'punished' for eating the cake.

My CDE has discouraged me from avoiding foods out of fear of how my bg will react to it. But I can't help but stay away from certain foods when I see what they do to my blood sugar (healthy food included). My bg is usually pretty stable because I eat the same foods almost every day of the week (with the exceptions of the occasional weekend pancake). My meals are very planned- a healthy fat, a healthy (measured or weighed) carb and a protein at every meal. So when I broke from the norm and had a piece of cake, I felt a sadness/anger/frustration at the situation and at myself for 'allowing' my bg to get that high. It takes the enjoyment out of eating "fun" foods when you convince yourself you are going to go blind from it.

Do you avoid foods that you know are landmines? Is the initial guilt and subsequent avoidance of food a normal reaction?

Do you hide food?

I do. In the stationery drawer of my desk is where I keep my secret stash. When you first open it, it looks like any stationery drawer: envelopes, stamps, stationery, even some healthy pumpkin seeds. But buried below the facade is the real gold.

As you can see in the 2nd picture, that's where I hide my gluten free peanut butter cookie, and what's left of a 2 lb bag of peanut M&Ms dumped into a freezer bag. I even included the carb information from the bag so I can bolus correctly.

Why would one hide food? Well, in my case, it's for a couple reasons. The first being out of fear of judgement. Someone will come over and see these sugary, bad-for-you treats and and think to themselves no wonder she has diabetes or should she be eating THAT? I sometimes dig in to my goodies when I'm stressed. I don't want anyone to know that I run to bad food when I'm sad or stressed out. I feel as though while what I eat is nobody else's business, I just don't want to deal with being lectured or looked down on.

The other reason is because my secret stash makes me feel powerful. Because whenever I feel like it, I can eat it. I have control over something and the fact that no one even knows about it, makes it even more powerful and exciting.

I've never told anyone about my little secret stash. None of the friends that come to my place know about it. Do you hide food? If so, why? Or do you have something else that you hide that helps you deal with your diabetes? DO TELL.

6.0

These were my A1C results from today! I wasn't sure what to expect when I came into the doctor's office today. You never feel like you are doing as good of a job managing it as you could be. Diabetes is a beat-yourself-up disease. It's a constant source of self-scolding, negative self-talk and feeling guilty for enjoying food. Diabetes is a disease where effort rarely equals results. It's just nice to see that little pot of gold at the end of the rainbow!

Oh Happiness.

I figured since I posted yesterday's stressful events, I should follow it up with something happy. So this is my dog, Bella. She's 7.5 years old. Doesn't her little face just make you smile? She was a pirate for halloween, and the other picture was at Easter, right before she pounced on my lamb stuffed animals/Easter decorations. You can tell with the ears back that she was about to do something naughty.

Hellooooo paramedics.

Yesterday was a complete crap show.

I woke up, skipped breakfast and ran out the door to take care of a few things. (Mistake #1).

Stressed out about a recent event, I skipped lunch because I didn't feel hungry. (Mistake #2).

Fast forward to around 4pm. Still stressed and not hungry, I decided to just drink some coffee. I was talking to my sister on the phone, when I felt the wave of low blood sugar come over me and I blurted out "I don't feel good." My sister asked me what my blood sugar was and I began digging in my purse, looking for my CGM. Where is he and why isn't he beeping if I'm low? Apparently, he had tried to warn me. He had already vibrated in my purse but I didn't hear him. My CGM said 37 with double down arrows. Then it switched to saying "LOW" with double-down arrows. My bg was too low to register. Uh oh.

I grabbed some oj from the fridge and started chugging. I had a sneaking suspicion it was too late. At that moment, I had one of those low bg reactions where you start weepy crying for no reason. And then I got sweaty. Really, really sweaty. My sister was frantically asking questions, I could hear her, but I couldn't respond. I could envision my answers; I just couldn't spit out the words. Nothing would come out. I sat down on the kitchen floor. At this point, I'm panicked and know I'm in trouble. My sister knows it, too.

My sister calls for help for me.

Within a short amount of time two fire trucks, a police car and an ambulance arrived. Still somewhat alert, I'm having tubes of glucose gel squirted in my mouth. There's a blood pressure cuff on my arm. Someone's holding my hand and poking my fingers every few minutes. I was thinking in my head that I should tell them there's a 15-minute rule for carbs. I hear numbers being blurted out. "40." "42." "51." I'm starting to feel better, whew. A fireman is squatting next to me asking me if I know what day it is. A police officer is digging in my wallet looking for my driver's license.

They stay with me for probably 45 minutes. My blood sugar had reached 95 at this point. The police officer offered to make me a peanut butter sandwich. She is digging through cupboards trying to find carbs I can eat. I politely decline, but am told that they cannot leave (per policy) until they witness me eating carbs, so I grab a bag of rice chips and start chowing down.

After they left, I sat on the couch and just replayed the event over in my head. Did that really happen? I've read about these situations in my diabetes magazines, but I never thought it would happen to me. I am too meticulous, too careful, too type A to ever let something like this happen. I manage my diabetes to a "T," I've got my own flow charts and trending sheets and spreadsheets and addendums to those spreadsheets. I check my bg throughout the day like a maniac. But I got over confident. I forgot one thing- that no matter what situation the day brings, Rules For Diabetes Always Comes First. Like the rule of eating. And managing stress levels. And keeping your CGM in your pocket so you can actually hear it alarming. Diabetes doesn't turn itself off when you have something more important to deal with. It doesn't step down when you need a break from it. It's like the bully at school that's there day after day, just waiting for you around the corner.

After I ruminated about the situation, I took a deep breath, got up from the couch and started a luke warm bubble bath. I grabbed my Us Weekly celebrity smut magazine. I didn't beat myself up for making a mistake that day (...or two...or three). I just said to myself "tomorrow is a new day."

I'm a permanent student of diabetes, and there's a lot to learn.

Double Trouble.

It can be quite challenging to have both type 1 diabetes and celiac disease. Anybody who has type 1 knows the challenges of balancing blood sugar all day, every day. I have to follow two diets while trying to balance blood sugar. Being diagnosed with celiac disease put an end to my ability to be vegetarian, because I need a good protein source, and all vegetarian meat (Gardenburgers, Boca burgers, seitan, etc.) has gluten in it. And while beans, lentils, quinoa and various grains do have protein, they are still a carbohydrate, which increases my blood sugar. I know different things work for different diabetics, but for me, to keep my blood sugar stable, I need to eat a protein, a healthy carb and a healthy fat at every meal, no exceptions. A typical breakfast for me is an avocado and a banana blended up in my Magic Bullet (almost whipped into a pudding texture) and a turkey burger. Another breakfast is a sweet potato with coconut milk on top and a turkey burger. Sometimes I'll do eggs instead of the meat. My blood sugar barely rises above 95 when I eat this combination of food.



But the truth is, I miss the food I used to be able to eat. I miss bread (REAL french bread), Starbucks lattes, and fast food. I miss going out to eat without giving it a second thought or being able to go over to other peoples' houses for dinner without worrying about cross contamination (I usually bring my own food to eat). I miss how I used to eat: 1. see food I like, 2. eat it.



I get sick of being different.



I have become a more conscientious eater, because I really have to THINK about what's going into my mouth. Is it gluten free? What is the carb count per serving? Am I eating one serving, or two? What's the fiber count- is it high enough to subtract it from the carb count?

I'm still learning to overcome the social stigma of having celiac disease. It's hard to tell your friends "I can't try a bite of that, sorry" or "I can't come with you guys to that new, fun restaurant because they don't have a gluten free menu."

If there is anyone out there reading that has both type 1 and celiac, I'd love to hear from you. I could use some survival tips.

Quit Crying Wolf and I Hate Adhesives.

I'm breaking up with my CGM. He's been a bad, bad boy. (His name is Sam). Sam woke me up not once, not twice, but SIX TIMES last night with reported lows. Problem is, Sam was wrong on 5 out of the 6. He'd say I was in the 60s, my bg meter said I was 89. After the 6th time, I was so exhausted and mad that I ate 4 glucose tabs just to make sure he shut up for the remainder of the late night/early morning. I actually fell asleep WHILE I was checking my bg on my meter, I got as far as getting the test strip in the meter, but never actually checked my blood. I woke up again when Sam alerted me to the 6th "low."

My BG probably jumped to the high 100s from eating 16 carbs I didn't need, but, guess what? I was too tired by that point to care.

I've noticed he's been crying wolf a lot lately at night, so I lowered my low alarm to 60 instead of 70. It's reduced the number of times he wakes me. And the thing is, is that at nighttime, when he alarms, even if you know or highly suspect he's wrong, you still feel like you have to check, because what if this one time he's actually telling the truth! It stays in your mind until you finally break out the bg meter and check.

And slightly different subject, now. I am SO sick of adhesives. Between my CGM and my Omnipod, I have temporary adhesive marks all over the place on my abdomen and lower back. Even when it's not in one spot anymore, you can still see the adhesive marks for weeks. It's ugly and I'm afraid of permanent scarring, since I can never get it entirely healed up before I have to put it on that spot again. What can I do? Is there some magical cream I don't know about that will help heal up those spots in a couple of days? I sure would like to know!

Mall of America Walk!

Two weeks ago I completed my first Walk to Cure Diabetes. It was at the Mall of America. It was comforting and inspiring to be walking with thousands of others, all for the same cause.

I need a secretary.

Who knew that there was an administrative side to having diabetes. Most people know about the obvious management it takes- finger pokes, testing, juice boxes, etc., but what about the other stuff?

Like when you are running late and trying to get out the door and right then, your pod alarms (I have an Omnipod) and you have to put on a whole new pod before you can go. Which reminds you that you are almost out of pods and you haven't received a new shipment- where are they? You make a mental note to call Omnipod/Insulet Corp later to check the status.

It's as if managing T1 everyday isn't quite enough- you have to battle your insurance company every so often when they randomly decide you are using too many test strips per month and therefore deny your prescription, or they suddenly change the brand you use to the non-formulary list and hike your copay up another 20%.

It's realizing you don't have anymore tape as your CGM or your pod is falling off/coming loose.

There's always stuff to stay on top of, it's always time to re-order something. That's why I need a diabetes secretary. That way I can have some normal down time in my day. And sometimes, I just want to feel nondiabetic for just 5 minutes. Because it wasn't that long ago that I was, and I still remember what "normal" feels like. I miss it.

Side note- I've recently identified that I talk more to myself now that I have diabetes. Is this normal????? I say things like "Are you kidding me???" "You are NOT going to do this now, are you?" "Ohhhh, can't you just leave me alone for a little bit???" Sadly, I find that I tend to do it outloud, even in grocery aisles, only to look up and see people looking at me, wondering who I'm talking to.

I need a bubble bath. Calgonnnnnnnnnnnn!

Happy 1 Year Anniversary, T1 Diabetes.

One year ago on February 6, 2010, I was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. It was a Saturday, a normal one, and the day before the Super Bowl. I had plans that weekend. In fact, I was sitting at Starbucks on the phone with my sister, telling her that I didn’t feel well and was going to go get “checked out” at the urgent care clinic before going out with my friends later that evening.

I never made it to the date with my friends.

I am still reeling from how much my life changed one year ago. I've had friends ask me why I'd want to acknowledge or celebrate that day. One even asked "how is that day really any different than any day?" My answer: because that day marks the end of my old life, my “normal” life. Living stress free. It marks the day when I no longer got to take for granted being healthy every day, effortlessly.

It marked the day that going forward, I would never not have a medical diagnosis attached to my name when I went to any doctor visit.

The day fear set in as well as the reality of mortality.

And the day that there were no more birthdays or holidays where I could say “this time, last year, I didn’t have diabetes.”

It marked the day that I’d had D for one year, and I realized it was time to stop measuring time in “before D”/ “after D.”

The new-ness of the disease wore off for me and everyone else.

Being newly diagnosed with D reminded me somewhat of what happens after a funeral. Just like when someone unexpectedly dies, with the new diagnosis, everyone around you is shocked, sad for you, supportive and rallies around you. Everyone offers their 24/7 help. “Call me if you need anything.” There’s food being brought to your house. There are lots of questions like “how did you get it?” “What were your symptoms?” “How did you know you had it?” People are secretly questioning their own mortality, too, off of your new diagnosis.

But as time rolls on, the calls slow. The casseroles are no longer being delivered to your house. The offers of 24/7 help seem to fall by the wayside. Everyone else has moved on with their lives. As the last flower bouquet eventually dies, you are left to mourn alone. When everyone else has forgotten about it, you still have to manage the disease. Daily. Hourly.

The first year, I witnessed people and friends tire of hearing about my daily struggles with managing big D. I even had one friend ask if I needed to mention D every day, as if having D wasn’t as big of a deal as I was making it. I almost felt as if he were telling me to “let it go.”

Learning diabetes was like taking a super crash course in a foreign language. Health providers would whip out terms to me like I was a seasoned veteran. To me, it might as well have been in Chinese. I had no idea what a “bolus” was, and later didn’t understand the difference between a bolus and a basal rate. And what the hell is “ background insulin?” What constituted a fast-acting insulin versus a slow-acting one? Can I really only have 30 carbs at breakfast and 45 at lunch and dinner? (I had been given a Type 2 workbook in the hospital). The nurses in the hospital took my bg regularly and would tell me my bg had gone from 300 to 185. Was that a good number? Where’s it supposed to be at?

While in the hospital, day 2 of my diagnosis, the rounding endocrinologist finally convinced me that the diagnosis wasn’t a mistake, as I had hoped. That I, in fact, did have diabetes. I had a complete meltdown. I darn near begged the doctor to allow me some time (a week?) to go home and digest all this before I had to start taking care of it (the answer was no). I walked from my hospital bed to my bathroom shower and I turned the water on. I cried so hard in that shower that my whole body convulsed. I leaned my back against the corner and slowly slid down until I was sitting on the floor. I hoped the water was drowning out the sounds of my sobbing so the nurses wouldn’t come in. I felt more alone and isolated in that moment than I have ever felt. The reality of the situation and the fear overwhelmed me all at once. I wondered how a 5’6”, 112 lb. woman with a healthy lifestyle and no family history could get diabetes (I didn’t fully understand the difference between Type 1 and 2).

I left the hospital a couple days later with 500 new prescriptions and the hope that the medical insurance I had never really used was good.

The first year of diabetes involved changing glucose meters a couple times until I found one I liked, (realizing they require different amounts of blood), literally figuring out and trying to remember which end of the test strip went in the meter (the stripes end, not the dots!), and getting an Omnipod insulin pump a week after diagnosis. It was realizing I didn’t have to use gloves or alcohol wipes each time I pricked my finger (like the nurses did).

A year later, I’m still trying to figure out how certain things affect my blood sugar: foods, illness, stress, exercise.

I’ve, to this day, never given myself a shot of insulin (too afraid of the needles). I know I know, I need to get over it and learn, in case my pump fails. I’m working on it. You can hold your tongue.

I’ve learned to put my diabetes care at the forefront of my life, and to not be embarrassed or ashamed that I have to do things in front of other people. I used to feel bad when I thought I was making others uncomfortable because I was adjusting my pump or checking my bg in front of them. I decided I wasn’t going to get up and leave every time I needed to do it. And I realized that for the most part, people won’t make a big deal out of it unless you do. I decided to put my needs first. My saying became “After me, you come first!”

I also learned that acquiring as much info on T1 was important on a couple different levels. It educated me, first and foremost, which has allowed me to take better care of myself and to educate others. But it also gave me a sense of control over my illness. I found a great CDE and endo. I subscribed to Diabetes Forecast. I signed up for the local JDRF walk. I joined the ADA, the JDRF Advocates, DOCs and read T1 diabetes blogs. I watched documentaries. Bought a happy lamp. I went to 2 hospital dieticians, followed by a holistic one, and another one at the wellness department at my insurance company. I visited two therapists and realized it wasn’t for me- I wanted to figure out how to manage this emotionally without a therapist or medication. I read more books (about diabetes) in the last year than I’ve read in the last 5 years combined. I tried every hokey diet that promised to cure me and reverse my diabetes. I went back to church weekly and prayed HARD. I read positive thinking books and did a “vision board.” And although I still have diabetes (nope, none of these things cured me), they all helped me in some way. You do what you gotta do to feel empowered.

I still have a lot to learn, especially with learning how to deal with the emotions that having D brings. And dealing with how it affects those around me. And maybe learning to not feel responsible for other people’s feelings.

I am open to anyone’s advice and suggestions, because I’m still a diabetes pup.